


Ring

by Fayina (Dayea)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Characters are a bit OOC?, Friends to Lovers maybe?, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not sure if you'd like it, POV Third Person, Phone Calls & Telephones, Platonic Relationships, Pre-Relationship, Still Working on title, Undefined Relationship, Very little dialogue, Weird writing Style
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 18:19:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9197690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dayea/pseuds/Fayina
Summary: It was an unspoken agreement between the two of them, what they had it – was the kind that’s sweet behind closed doors. They never spoke of what they are, never bothered to put label. One was just ready to answer the call the other hesitates to give. They sit by the phone on the other side of the hall, patient and anxious.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Still working on giving this a decent title ... please forgive me, I'm not good at them. Please enjoy!

It was an unspoken agreement between the two of them, what they had it – was the kind that’s sweet behind closed doors. They never spoke of what they are, never bothered to put label. One was just ready to answer the call the other hesitates to give. They sit by the phone on the other side of the hall, patient and anxious.

 

A phone was picked.

.

Once.

.

.

Twice.

.

.

.

Thrice.

Before it was held firmly in hand, fingers ghosting over the screen to inevitably press the telltale number that once was written merely on plain, nondescript scrawl.

 

“Hello.”

 

It was familiar. The voice, it was undesirably comforting.

 

The unintentional sympathy hanging on the tone was uncalled for, insulting even, but neither bothered to mention it, neither bothered to stop.

 

They start off with casual questions of how the day went and to a more personal what went wrong.

 

The exchanged words were generic, brash, polite, tolerating.

 

It ends with a reluctant

 

“Bye.”

 

But they both know, the phone will be ringing again much later that night.

 

.o.o.o.

 

A phone rings.

 

It was blindly picked and answered with a groggy

 

“Hello.”

 

The person on the other line reluctantly answers and decides on a pathetic

 

“I’m sorry I woke you up, I’ll hung up now.”

 

A pair of sleepy eyes will instantaneously snap open, not that the other will ever know, because god would only bother to know what solace these phone call brings and how they tried to stay awake, waiting until only an hour ago for this call.

 

Keys will be snatched not long later. Footsteps muffled by the carpet as each silently pray that either their mentors or friends won’t rouse to catch them, or their own admirers spotting them. A low hum of motor engine breaks off the still silence and the headlight gives life to the dusky parking lot. They would sit there for a moment deciding if this was a good idea, tomorrow’s the competition anyway and they need all the rest they can get, while the vehicle warms; providing heat in lieu to the awkward physical contact they refuse to give despite their closeness. But they’ve come so far, and while they won’t admit it, these small discreet escapes bring a fresh release to the chaotic routine they call life.

 

.o.o.o.

 

They drive through the night. No particular destination in mind. Aimlessly they cruise through the highway, letting the wind chase away their doubts. The lights on the freeway are liberating, fears vanish as the street lamp flicker away. The sound of their mingled breath plus the static thrum from the local radio became the theme song for the night. They drive fast, faster than they did the night before, faster than the morning they had to beat their coaches from rising because they overstayed their welcome from the wearing blanket of darkness.

 

Maybe they’re breaking dozens of speed limits

But who cares?

The world is still sleeping and they only exist

The familiar comfort of a distant friend was all that matters

 

It’s exhilarating.

 

.o.o.o.

 

They stop at the top of their secret place

They often make it a point to find one on each phase

It was high enough to oversee the city

It was like stepping back to examine the mesh and marks of the ever-changing puzzle

One by one the flickering begins to end

Everyone finally embraces the restful blanket

 

.o.o.o.

 

It’s still dark when they return, just a few cracks of light, not yet enough to rouse the sane ones.

 

They stand there awkwardly from each other, never knowing how to proceed. They’ve done this countless time, but neither still knew how to conclude this rendezvous. So they simply walk away like none of this has happened. Because that’s the distinct feature of their relationship, they can end it faster than they started it.

 

.o.o.o.

 

They see each other at the rink with only stolen glances, their eyes glimpses in passing conveying million words of unspoken comfort. They creep through the day, dreading whilst looking forward for the notches to conclude the day over. In the end, all that matters is they stand side by side, regardless of who stands above the other. Between the two of them it’s just a shiny piece of metal, they’re equally and differently astounding they know. Plus they’re holding something worth more than the prestige of gold.

 

.o.o.o.

 

They meet later, recognizing the façade plastered by the other. They thread through all the fanfare, displaying great dominance on their control over their impulsive desire to reach for each other. They slip away when the fine indulgence starts to crack, to take a break before reality takes them back.

 

In the morning they’d fly apart

Back to their own corners of the world where once again they’d start

And begin to secretly count of the days to pass

Before they see each other not through a glass

 

.

.

.

.

.

 

.o.o.o.

 

Fast-forward a few years

Their tones started to change

The calls trickled in number

Until there was none

One stopped gliding through the ice

The other lost their muse twice

 

 

But one snowy day when Yuri was contemplating on bowing for the last time, Otabek was waiting outside the rink, familiar motorcycle at the side. The small smile they briefly shared conveyed thoughts that perhaps, it’s time to pick up where they’ve left.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Finally! A decent ending for this piece. Sorry for my weird, boring writing style, still hope you enjoyed it though. Comments/suggestions/complaints/constructive criticisms/rants? Feel free to politely express them! Have a nice day/night!


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